Loreen's POV
Loreen leaned forward and rested his arms on the table.
He looked at his father sitting across from him and tried to remember the last time they had sat like this, just the two of them, talking about something that actually mattered.
It had been a long time. Long enough that the ease of it felt slightly unfamiliar, like a door that had been closed for years and had only recently been opened again.
He could not quite believe that this was the conversation they were having. His father. The king.
The man whose approval he had spent years either chasing or running from depending on the season. And here they were talking about Sairis.
"If I am being honest, father," Loreen said, "probably from the very beginning."
His father looked at him. "The beginning," he repeated.
